Hot headed nations and a former balcony
by Stolen Key
Summary: Long overdue oneshot from an idea in a review from ThatScienceChick. Romano was promised pizza and fireworks for New Years what he was not expecting was a huge party. Now he is angry and a certain young Irish nation just seems to make things worse with explosive results. No pairings at all in this. Rated T for language


Romano was angry; Spain had promised him pizza and fireworks if he went to Spain's house for New Years. Sure there was pizza and fireworks but there were also a lot more people there. What Spain forgot to tell him was that he was throwing a huge party and nearly all the bastards he hated were there. So here he was sulking in the corner watching that potato bastard his brother likes talking to Spain. To make matters worse he couldn't even complain to his brother because he was clinging onto the potato bastards arm and looking so sickeningly happy it made Romano's stomach turn.

"Che, who needs them. I'm fine here, I have wine and pizza but I still want those fireworks," he muttered angrily to himself and scanned the room for other people he should avoid. After a quick look he concluded that there wasn't a single person he wanted to talk to, not a single pretty girl! What was Spain thinking not inviting any female nations to the party? At the very least Belgium should be there, even if it meant Romano would have to avoid her brother he would have someone to flirt with. Someone who wasn't a bastard or a jerk! Downing his glass of wine he stomped over to the buffet table only to walk head first into someone.

"Hey bastard watch where you're going!" he shouted angrily and steadied himself to throw more insults at the person who stopped him.

"Hey you walked into me!" the person retorted, Romano blinked and opened his eyes. Was that a woman talking? He thought to himself. Looking up slowly he gasped and jumped backwards in surprise. It was!

"Mi dispiace Ireland, I didn't know it was you! Here let me get you another drink," he quickly offered and rushed forward to fill her glass.

"You change your tune very quickly don't ya?" she asked cautiously eyeing the Italian.

"I thought you were one of the jerks Spain invited," Romano quickly explained and handed her back the glass.

"Right, well thanks for the drink. Why are ya on your own anyway?" Ireland asked and glanced around the room, it seemed like everyone Romano normally talked to was already locked in conversations with other people.

"Che, cause that stupid jerk Spain invited all the wrong people," Romano grumbled under his breath and shot a nasty look towards the Spanish man.

"What was that?"

"Ah because none are as bella as you; but what about you? Why would a lady such as yourself be left to get her own drinks?"

"Because France and North are being pains in the arses," Ireland replied and took a sip of her drink enjoying Romano's blatant flirting.

"North?"

"Northern Ireland... England and Scotland's little brother." Romano looked at her blankly, England had another brother besides Scotland? That was news to him. Before he could say anything a loud shout broke over the crowd and he looked over Ireland's shoulder to see a flame haired teenager who looked almost identical to England running up to them. Romano let out a puff of air in annoyance; another jerk had to come along and ruin his fun.

"Ireland," the teenager called, "what are ye doing over here? Scotland is looking for ye." He stopped beside Ireland and Romano gave him the best death glare he could muster, he didn't want to swear at him in case Ireland liked the guy. North shot him a confused look and Romano almost gasped in shock, that guy had two different eye colours, one was blue the other was green! That meant he had to be a bigger jerk! Or maybe he was not as huge jerk, gah Romano didn't know anymore. He just had to get rid of the guy.

"Where is he?" Ireland answered, completely oblivious to the staring match between the younger nations.

"Last I saw he was chatting to France," Ireland visibly cringed at that, France was in one of his 'there is no such things as boundaries' moods and even Ireland found it disgusting.

Noticing this North continued "but I'm sure ye could get him away from the frog..."

"Aye then that will have to do," Ireland chirped and walked off, leaving the two to continue their staring contest.

"What are ye looking at?" North asked the Italian once Ireland was out of earshot.

"A potato jerk," Romano retorted and stalked off back to his corner beside the buffet table. North glared daggers at the retreated brunette and then turned back to where Ireland had gone, he had a plan and no-one was going to get in the way of it. He didn't know exactly how he was going to do it, but somehow he was going to get Scotland to confess to Ireland that night. Trying to push the rude comment to the back of his mind North grinned maniacally, so far his plan was going great. To make things even better they finally let him drink! Now he just had to get them out onto the balcony for the fireworks and somehow get Scotland to man up a bit. Which considering Scotland was rather surprising. Grabbing another bottle of some beer he couldn't pronounce he moved through the crowd and joined in with Ireland and Scotland's conversation, they had thankfully shaken off France but somehow picked up Prussia on the way. North would have to find a way to deal with him later.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

The hours passed and the nations drank and partied as it edged closer until midnight. At eleven North somehow found an excuse to break away from the group that, for some reason always formed around Ireland and eventually made his way out to the balcony. As soon as he stepped out into the fresh air his world became a whole new playing field. The ground below him turned to sand and nearly everyone he spoke to was too loud. Shaking his head he glanced around and noticed a familiar face standing by the balcony wall, the annoying Italian from earlier.

"Hey you, I need ye off this balcony," he called over, his words slurring into one another. Romano shot him an angry look and stepped away from the wall.

"Why would I do that, potato jerk," Romano spat back.

"What did ye just call me?"

"Potato jerk!" As soon as the words escaped his lips North was on top of him wrestling him to the ground.

"Stupid wanker... don't... you know how fucking insulting that is?" he grunted and forced the brunette's face onto the tiles. Romano responded with a swift punch to North's cheek.

"Why would I care, you and everyone else ruined my New Years!" Romano yelped in fear and tried to pull away. Never one for a fight Romano desperately kicked North in the stomach forcing the Irish nation to crumple and fall off him, giving Romano enough time to flee. North lay on the tiles for a second in agony, for a weak nation Romano knew exactly where to hit. Groaning he pulled himself together and shook his head to try and clear the anger out of his mind. He wasn't even sure why he got so pissed off, he just really wanted to beat Romano into a living pulp. Shifting between his feet and stretching until he heard a soft click North stumbled to his feet and used the wall as an aid to steady himself. The ground in front of him was still shaky but after bracing himself and waiting for ten minutes he was able to walk in a straight line, or as straight as he could manage. Another ten minutes passed and he still hadn't moved from the spot instead he sank down and sat gazing up at the sky. In just over half an hour fireworks were going to light up the black, now though millions of stars shone lighting up the night. He looked around the balcony and noticed that it was empty and a fresh buffet table was set out, possibly for people who would come out to watch the fireworks. North grinned lopsidedly at the sight, his job just got a lot easier.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Romano was more than furious now, that bastard just attacked him for no reason at all! How dare he do that? Romano's mind raced as he thought of new ways to get revenge. All the wine he had drank fuelling his imagination and making him find much more diabolical and violent ways to hurt Northern Ireland. He even considered calling his Mafia in, but hung up his phone once he realised Spain was Ireland's good friend and it might not be a good idea to kill Northern Ireland. Then again Spain was a jerk for inviting everyone to the party... so technically it is his fault. Romano grinned wickedly to himself and started typing in the phone number again and pressed call.

_Ring ring ring..._

"_What can I do for you bo..."_ the line went dead.

Romano stared at his phone wide eyed; only a black screen greeted him. His phone's battery died. Great, he thought, now what? He paced around the party until he finally got Spain alone but as soon as he was about to spout a torrent of obscenities at the Spanish man he was pulled away by Prussia. This was not Romano's day. Eventually he decided he was going to shout at Northern Ireland until he was hoarse or better still Northern Ireland cried and looked like an idiota.

Stomping out to the balcony where he last saw the ginger bastard Romano stopped and glared at the nation who was for some stupid reason arranging the buffet table.

"Hey potato jerk!" he called, "this is all your fault!"

North turned and squinted at him, his sense of balance was off causing him to stumble every few seconds. Romano grinned at the sight, it meant it was going to be easier now.

"I asked ye before and I'll ask ye again, do ye not know how insulting that is?" North growled in return.

"It's not my fault if it's true," Romano retorted with a scowl.

"Oh aye and how would it be?"

"That's all the Irish eat! Everyone knows that and you look like a potato with that British jerk's eyebrows."

North tensed up at the last remark and glanced over the table, he could use magic to shut this arsehole up... but how mad would Ireland and Scotland get if he did?

"What's wrong jerk? Scared?" Romano mocked him with a smirk set firmly on his face.

"Aww aye and I guess you're the king of cowards then? Ye ran off fairly quickly when ye kicked me," Romano bristled at that title and North could almost imagine him arching his back like a cat about to attack.

"Well I at least I don't have stupid jerk eyebrows like you."

"Better than that weird hair curl you have," North spat back, he knew this was getting petty but hey, he was giving as good as he was getting and he wasn't going to stop now.

"I got this from grampa Rome! You got your eyebrows from the biggest bastard family ever!"

That was all the encouragement North needed, Romano had gone too far and North really did need an extra push. As soon as Romano had started on another insult North spun around and analysed the contents on the table.

"Baby spuds; check. Mashed spuds; check. Bacon bits; check. Tomatoes; check." North muttered to himself in an effort to drown out Romano's insults. Now he was spouting something about how Ireland must be blind to put up with so many jerks. North tsked at that, if Romano knew the whole story then maybe he wouldn't be so arrogant, scratch that. It would just give North a better reason to do what he had planned. He could hear the countdown begin inside but he wasn't interested in that anymore, now he was too busy putting together whatever the hell he was determined to make. After pulling together all the food items he had gathered, a straw and a few other things he could barely remember it was done. He turned to face the Italian and smirked at the confusion on the man's face.

Meanwhile inside the nations were too caught up with the New Years countdown to notice the fight unfold on the balcony.

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

BANG!

The building shook and dust filled the air instead of the light of hundreds of fireworks. Silence fell over the crowd until loud coughing and swearing coming from the balcony door broke it. All the party guests turned to watch Romano and North stumble through the ruined doors and collapse on the floor. Most of their clothes ripped in tatters and burnt.

Gasping Ireland and Scotland raced forward and grabbed North by the shoulders. Spain following suit and quickly pulled Romano up to look at him.

"What happened here Lovi?" Spain asked in an urgent tone.

"That bastard blew the whole thing up!" Romano spat at North who grimaced at the insult. He hated to admit it but the insults didn't hurt nearly as bad, his bruised shoulder was his main concern at that moment.

"It's all yer fault!" North retorted before Ireland could calm him.

"Ok enough of that, tell me exactly what happened," Ireland commanded firmly gripping North's bruised shoulder in an attempt to squeeze an answer out of him.

"That arse there started insulting me and wouldn't fucking stop!" North whined.

"Lad, no swearing," Scotland growled down at him grabbed North by his arm and pulled him to his feet. Forcing him to stand.

"Fine, but it's his fault... I was only defending myself..." North grumbled.

"Romano, did you start this?" Spain asked the Italian who was by now avoiding eye contact with everyone.

"I... it's all your stupid fault jerk Spain!" Romano cried and fought back his tears.

"Romano, how is it my fault?"

"You invited all these people to this stupid party and not enough cute girls and you never told me!" Romano was now letting his tears fall freely as he shouted his defence. "Then that bastard started annoying me so we got in a fight and then he grabbed some... stuff and blew up the balcony!"

Everyone stared between Romano and North, Romano was sobbing loudly about how unfair Spain was and North was awkwardly trying to avoid everyone's gaze. Within the time the balcony blew up and Scotland dragged him to his feet he had sobered up and realised what he did. He knew he was in a lot of shit.

"North how did ye make the bomb?" Scotland urged, his eyes hard.

"I... I don't know. I just grabbed something's from the buffet table, I might have used a wee bit of magic but the next thing I knew was the whole thing blew up." North could feel his voice catch in the back of his throat, "he just pissed me off by calling me a potato jerk and that's not..." North cursed himself later but at that exact moment he couldn't hold back the tears any longer and they choked out the rest of his explanation.

Ireland and Scotland shared a look, they knew North could barely use magic to light a match let alone create a fairly powerful bomb considering almost the entire balcony was missing. After a brief pause Ireland stepped up to North to calm him, she knew if North was crying then he really did regret what he did.

"Sorry about the lad Spain," Scotland turned to Spain who was now calming Romano much like Ireland was calming North. "He'll pay to get the balcony fixed and we think it was the drink. Normally we never let him drink and I guess he's a wee bit more like England than we thought..."

"Hey I'm nothing like England!" North cried in between his sobs nut was met with a very quick slap to the back of his head and a whispered scolding from Ireland. "Why should I respect him when he barely does anything and just gives out to me?" he whined at the woman who only raised an eyebrow at the teenager.

"You know why now cop yourself on and go apologise," Ireland demanded and tossed him towards Spain.

Stumbling to a stop he held his eyes firmly on the ground and muttered a quick apology. Glancing back at the older redheads he met their angry glares and sighed. "I'm sorry for blowing up the balcony Spain, I didn't even know how it happened... it just did," he said after a very long pause.

Spain raised an eyebrow at how easy it was to get North to apologise, he knew that it was partly Romano's fault and from what he heard about Northern Ireland. The young nation (even if he had a past reputation for them) did not like explosives.

"Look! See it's all his fault!" Romano exclaimed, a feral grin setting on his face and he brushed back the tears to gloat over North.

"Lovi! Stop it now!" Spain warned him and smacked the back of his head, "I may not know Northern Ireland that well but I know Ireland and Scotland and they would never let him do something like that!" He glared at the Italian and forced him to behave himself.

"How would you know that bastardo? He blew up the balcony!" Romano argued back.

"Because he would not call someone a "bastardo" Lovi and I think you need to apologise as well. I doubt it was entirely Northern Ireland's fault and you pushed him to doing that," Spain held an angry glint in his eye that immediately broke down Romano's tough exterior.

Huffing Romano glared between Spain, Northern Ireland and the other nations who had by now formed a tight circle around them to watch. "Fine!" he snapped, "I'm sorry that Northern Ireland has a temper." He folded his arms and stared at the ground, tears once again forming in his eyes.

"Lovi," Spain growled, "apologise properly."

"NO! It's all his fault! I... I just wanted to spend New Years with you Spain and then when you threw this party you didn't even invite any pretty ladies except Ireland so I couldn't even flirt... and then... I hate all of you!" Romano cried between louder growing sobs then fled into the crowd, disappearing through a door.

Spain could only shake his head and mutter something about how that was the best he could do.

"Spain I really am sorry I blew up the balcony and I promise I'll pay for repairs and I'll even help fix it," North mumbled when he thought that enough time had passed since Romano fled.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Spain agreed and smiled slightly at the mess the night turned into. "So I suppose the party's over, sorry about Romano... he is difficult."

Northern Ireland nodded slightly and before he registered what he was about to say the words dropped out of his mouth, "any chance ye could keep this a secret from England? He's a lot stricter on me than anyone else..."

Spain considered it for a minute while the rest of the nations who had remained silent now broke into hushed murmurs.

"I suppose I could but I can't say anything for the rest of the people here, why is it that England is so strict on you anyway?"

"Because he's the youngest and well, England wants at least one person in the family like him," Scotland cut in with a laugh and tugged the teenager close to whisper in his ear, "look lad I know ye hate the whole secret thing but this time ye need to keep quiet." North nodded and cautiously looked around.

"Hey don't worry, I am sure we could keep everyone quite," Prussia exclaimed confidently and stepped forward, France a step behind him.

"Oui, I have enough... material to help keep things quiet," France added with a cheeky smirk.

Spain grinned at his friends and turned back to Northern Ireland, "looks like things will be fine then and it is a good thing America isn't here or there's no way we could stop him telling. But you have to promise to try and be amigos with Romano, he's not a bad guy he's just picky with who he's friends with."

"Aye, I can do that..." North said in a small voice.

"Good! But I think I really need to send everyone back to their hotels now so I can get this balcony closed off and get someone to inspect the damage. It could be very dangerous here," Spain said with some thought on how precarious the floor could be at that moment with so many people standing around.

With a quick nod and even further apologies North was led out of the massive house and into a waiting limo to take them back to their hotel.

"Lad ye're lucky Spain's so laidback," Scotland muttered when they cleared the driveway.

North could only nod in acknowledgement.

"That and the fact that Spain is a damn good friend," Ireland added and shot him another glare, she was far from happy about his behaviour. "And can ya imagine how your dad would react if he finds out."

"That's why I asked..." North mumbled and curled up into a ball in his seat.

"No more drink though," Ireland told him and watched the teenage boy grimace slightly at his reaction. "If ya act like that we can't have ya drinking or you'll end up worse than England."

"She's right, no more swearing either. Yer parents might swear like sailors but ye're different." Scotland told him.

North nodded and mumbled quiet "aye"s to both but shut his eyes in an attempt to block out any further scolding. It didn't work. The entire trip back to the hotel was filled with lectures on what he can and can't do.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Spain was incredibly thankful he was able to get construction workers out to his house within an hour after his last guest left. As it turned out the damage was entirely superficial. Yes the entire balcony was gone but there was no structural damage to the building. Feeling slightly better he set about the task of looking for Romano. After a little searching he eventually found the hot headed nation curled up in his (Spain's) bed.

"Can I ask why you are hiding in here?" Spain asked after waiting a moment to watch the nation who lay facing away from the door.

Romano immediately stiffened and pretended to be asleep.

"What you did wasn't very nice Lovi, you do know you have to fully apologise to him and Ireland now." Spain continued and crossed the room to sit on the side of the bed. He could see Romano trembling a little and tears forming between his shut eyelids. "Oh and you also have to help repair the balcony along with Northern Ireland."

At that Romano shot up from the bed and stood glaring down at the Spanish man.

"No you cannot make me work with that potato jerk!" Romano yelled.

"Did you call him a potato jerk?" Spain asked after a moment of hesitation and raised his eyebrow at Romano.

"Why wouldn't I? It's true," Romano answered, rage still coursing through his veins.

"I understand now why he got mad at you..." Spain sighed and pulled Romano's leg causing the man to fall with a yelp. "Now if you had have called Ireland that, both she, Scotland and a few other nations would have tried to seriously hurt you. It's a good thing I did not know what you called him otherwise I would have been a lot stricter." Spain quickly informed him, the normally happy go lucky nation now held a scowl on his face that in all honesty scared Romano.

"Why?" Romano asked in a mumble.

"Because of her history... Romano there are some things you cannot call people and you cannot call Northern Ireland a potato jerk because of how it affected Ireland," Spain told him.

"But..."

"No, now I want you to go and clean some of the mess that blew in after the balcony exploded," Spain commanded and left the Italian to deal with his thoughts. He was more than a little wary about what will happen when the two hot headed nations would have to repair the balcony but he hoped they could come to some sort of agreement and try to at least talk.

* * *

So this was on my laptop for ages and I just never had time to finish it till now.

For people who haven't read my other Ireland based fics I see Northern Ireland as England and Ireland's son who was born when Northern Ireland broke off. I don't see Ireland as a sibling of the UK brothers at all, more like a best friend (in Scotland's case), good friend and frenemy (guess who views her as a frenemy most of the time)

So reviews? Maybe ^^


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